


Now I'm Not Gonna Stop

by EllieMurasaki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, whydoyouneedtoknow's Dangerverse
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieMurasaki/pseuds/EllieMurasaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>And the last known survivor</i>
  <br/><i>Stalks his prey in the night</i>
  <br/><i>And he's watching us all with the eye of the tiger</i>
</p>
<p>The eve and aftermath of the final battle.</p>
<p>This is an AU of whydoyouneedtoknow/Anne Walsh's Dangerverse AU of Harry Potter, and will likely not make much sense without having read considerable of Dangerverse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now I'm Not Gonna Stop

_They stack the odds 'til we take to the street  
For the kill with the skill to survive_

"Be welcome, all, to this den-night," Harry said quietly. "We are Pack now. We are Pride now. Pack together; Pride together."

Danger of course said nothing.

"Who will tell a story?" Harry continued. "Who will remind us of what it is to be Pack, to be Pride?"

Again, silence.

"What _is_ it to be Pack or Pride now, Danger?" Harry wondered. "Malfoy killed Draco. Luna—chose. Ron's captured, and best case he's Imperiused, unless best case is he's dead. Malfoy killed Aletha. Fuck Him killed Remus. You're worse than dead. Ginny's worse than dead. Hermione's dead. Neville's dead or worse. Sirius is dead! Meghan is dead! Couldn't I have kept my father and my sister _one more den-night_..."

Last full moon, Sirius had recited the beta male words, Meghan the alpha female.

Sirius and Meghan might never have grave markers. Certainly they wouldn't ever have graves.

"On an entirely different note, I figured it out," Harry said. "The last Horcrux." He drew his wand and a mirror, saluted Danger, and recited the incantation for Fiendfyre. Iron control with fire magic kept the flames to a single tiny dragon that obediently flew up to Harry's forehead to scorch along the line of the scar. It hurt like blazes, but it was mere physical pain, and the fire was easily reduced to only fire when its work was done.

"He's unprotected now," Harry said, trying not to cry. "We're going to win, Danger. We're going to win."

Various charms learned from his sisters returned the scar's appearance to what it had been before the Fiendfyre, as near as he could make it. The difference shouldn't be too noticeable, he figured, not to someone who hadn't seen his face every day, and how many of _those_ were there?

"I bid you good night and fair dreams," said Harry, and these words, at least, fit in his mouth. "May this night rest us all, and we rise in the morning stronger for it."

Harry went over to the window of Danger's room, designed for single occupancy, and looked out at the sunset, at the crescent moon. Luna killed Meghan on the new moon.

Wolf bounded across the room and curled up at Danger's feet.

In the morning, Harry rose. He'd need to call enough of the surviving DA to make a decently sized strike force, of course, but that could wait a few moments.

"With my shield or upon it, Mother," he said, scent-touched Danger, and was gone.

 

_Rising up, straight to the top  
Had the guts, got the glory_

Harry's one regret was that he hadn't managed to kill Lucius Malfoy. The image of Malfoy's smirk at Harry as Aletha fell to his Killing Curse—

Well, one of the DA or an Auror would take care of Malfoy, and Aletha would be waiting on the other side. All his parents would be, save Danger, and the Pack half of his Pride. At least the Pack half of his Pride. Depended entirely on several factors. For instance, Ginny: how did Malfoy's curse work? Was killing the soul enough to send someone to the other side, or did the body have to die too? What about Danger—was she already with Remus?

Ron and Neville were just not _confirmed_ dead. As for Luna, she'd made her choice.

Wolf curled around his broken wand, his injuries protesting the change in most vehement terms. It wasn't as bad as the Cruciatus; maybe if he changed a couple more times, the stress would kill him. Better than waiting for the internal bleeding. 

A yowl, and Wolf thought, _mate_.

The lynx that ran up was as familiar as Harry's face in the mirror. Couldn't be her, of course—her body, certainly, proven when the redheaded Death Eater woman who had once been Ginny stood up where the lynx had been, and— 

He could not have heard that right. Maybe Voldemort had rattled his brains. There was no way a Death Eater would have said "The witch of the west is dead!" There was no reason for a Death Eater to say "Harry's dying—hurry!" 

Except maybe to torture him some more. That was always an option.

Luna didn't seem interested in torturing him. She smelled worried, and that definitely felt like first-aid magic; much good it'd do, given that his field of vision was darkening and his ears didn't seem to be working either. And there, that was Malfoy's scent, too much like Draco's to be anyone else's. 

Harry changed back to human. He needed his voice. Just get close enough, Malfoy—

_There_. Harry clutched his broken wand and whispered, "Boom."

 

_Rising up, back on the street  
Did my time, took my chances_

Draco was sitting between Harry's bed and Danger's when Harry woke. Funny; Harry hurt too much to be dead.

"Hardly anybody's actually dead, sir," Draco began.

"'Hardly anybody's actually dead'," Harry repeated. "Draco, we _buried_ you. I _saw_ Malfoy kill Aletha and Sirius—"

"You saw _me Stun_ Letha and Padfoot," Draco corrected. "I saw a strategic opportunity and I took it, sir. I should have told you I killed Malfoy. I should have told you Luna and I were infiltrating the Death Eaters. Or she should have, or one of the others should have. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to risk breaking my cover. I was wrong." Draco stood, then knelt, head back, neck bared, close enough that Harry wouldn't even have to sit up to reach him. 

Harry pushed himself up on one arm anyway. "You said they're alive," he said.

"Luna figured out how to retune a Stunning Spell to look like a Killing Curse," Draco answered. "And how to record memories to drop in someone's head like a CD that says Play Me. Hi, it's Draco, here's how you're still alive, please get off the game board, please don't break our cover."

Harry went over the list. Aletha, Sirius, and Hermione, killed by Malfoy—alive. Meghan, killed by Luna—alive. "Ron? Neville?"

"Only a little worse for wear," Draco said. "Mostly they were playing chess and poker. Neville's quite the card shark now," he added, and Harry cracked a smile. Draco half smiled in return. "They're here, actually. Letha won't let more than one of us sit with you at a time. She might change her mind once I go tell her you're awake." He didn't move to stand. 

Harry hesitated. "Ginny?"

"She shielded you instead of herself when you set that bomb off," Draco said flatly. "She won't let Meghan and Letha heal her all the way."

That only left two, and Harry'd just seen Danger yest—well, the day before killing Voldemort, however long ago that was.

"Moony," he whispered.

Draco's head dropped forward with a sigh. He lifted it again. "Voldemort hated him," he said. "Nearly as much as you. I never found out why. I got him to declare the rest of you off limits to anyone but me—to 'avenge' my 'son', of course. The good pureblood son who died tragically sometime around being kidnapped by the Pack, not the blood traitor. I didn't try to put you on the safe list." Harry nodded, understanding, and Draco continued, "But Voldemort already had an order out about Moony, and he wouldn't supersede it." He shuddered. "We had a _talk_ about my poor memory." 

Harry reached out and tipped Draco's head forward, laying his hand on the back of Draco's neck. "You did what you had to do," he said. "Or at least what you thought you had to do. The Pride's whole. The Pack—we'll survive. We always do."

 

_Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past  
You must fight just to keep them alive_

"Meghan, don't," Ginny said sharply.

"What?" Meghan pulled back her hand, glowing a faint blue. "Why? Your soul's all..." She flapped a hand, lost for words.

"Shredded and filthy," Ginny said. "I know. It will heal. _On its own._ "

The people she'd tortured didn't have a Meghan. The people she'd _killed_ —

"Ginny, remember we won," Luna said without turning her eyes away from the door that led to where Draco kept watch over Harry. "And if it hadn't been you—"

"It would have been someone else," Ginny completed with her. "Someone," she continued alone, "who would have hurt them worse. The ones who lived. And I'd be dead. Forgive me for thinking—now that I can _care_ about this sort of thing without having to worry that caring will get someone I love dead—that there are things it's better to die than do!" 

Absolute silence.

"At least let me take care of the physical injuries," Meghan pleaded.

"No," Ginny said again. "I want the memory."

"So keep the scars," said Harry, and everyone's eyes leaped to the doorway, where Harry stood, leaning on Draco. "Those are from my bomb, right? You shouldn't have to hurt because of me. Keep the scars if you want, but let her deal with the rest."

Ginny stared him down. She was alpha, and she had done wrong, and she might not have been thinking that at the time, but someone needed to make sure she felt a little of the pain she'd inflicted.

Harry sighed. "Don't hurt yourself worse, all right?" He looked around, at Hermione with Ron's head on one thigh and a now-closed book on the other, at Sirius with Aletha asleep in his lap. At Neville alone on his chair, Luna alone on the floor, Meghan sitting next to Ginny. "I am not pleased," he said slowly, "with any of you. Did a single one of you stop at any point and think that maybe the fact that you were _alive and unhurt_ might possibly be important strategic information _I needed to know_?"

"We _are_ all alive and unhurt," Neville pointed out. "We might not be if anyone had known we were."

"Nearly all," Hermione corrected.

"I tried," Draco said. "I'm sorry it wasn't good enough. I'm _sorry_ I was dealing with a megalomaniac psychopath who couldn't be persuaded that Moony was mine, not his!"

A fireball knocked Draco upside the head and fizzled.

"Ow," Draco said, rubbing that ear with the hand not supporting Harry. "Okay, Harry, I'll stop."

Harry's eyes were wide. "That wasn't me," he said.

The lock on the room's other door clicked open. Ron sat up and pointed his wand at that door. Hermione, Neville, and Luna followed suit. Ginny drew her wand, pointing it nowhere in particular.

It was Remus in the doorway.

Harry straightened till Draco was barely supporting him. Given the state he was in even after Aletha dealt with him, that had to hurt. "Good to see you," he said. He took a step sideways, waved Draco out of the way, and gestured Remus through the doorway.

Ginny was at an excellent angle to see Remus sit on the bed next to Danger, scent-touch her once, and hold her hand. It was a long several minutes—Harry pushed himself around the room to speak to each person in turn, to (judging by what he asked her) verify some minor detail that only that person and Harry could know—before Danger sat up, grabbed Remus's shirt, and demanded in poisonous tone, "Please explain."

"Thank you for using your green jewel to make me transparent to magic," Remus said. "I would have appreciated knowing that was happening _before_ I Fiendfyred the room I was in."

"Oh, so this is _my_ fault?" Danger snarled. "You _broke our bond_ and ran off to join a _werewolf camp_ —" She fell silent, apparently taking the discussion private.

Harry, circle completed except for Remus (though Danger's reaction was probably proof enough), sat down next to Ginny, leaning against the wall. If either reached out, they could touch the other.

Meghan looked over at her parents. "Someone should wake her up," she told Sirius.

"Did you maybe not notice how bad off Harry was?" Sirius asked. "We'll all still be here when she's slept herself out."

Remus stuck his head into the room, looking at Harry. "Would you care to explain what she asked me to tell you, Harry? Quote: 'This is _not Sparta!_ '"

Harry went very still.

"That sounds," Ron said, "like a den-night story."

Aletha sat up, yawning. "Somebody say den-night?"

Remus floated Danger's mattress into the room, various other soft things were summoned or conjured, and by unanimous silent consensus, it was Draco who said, "Be welcome, all, to this den-night. We are Pack now."

"Pack together," answered some of the attendees simultaneous with Draco's "We are Pride now," and Ginny laughed as she hadn't in months.

"Who will tell a story?" Danger asked when that was settled. "Who will remind us of what it is to be Pack and Pride?"


End file.
